


From Florence With Love

by universe



Category: Leverage
Genre: Backstory, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Series, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universe/pseuds/universe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There was that time, many years before he recruited her to Do Good, that they were stuck in a hotel room in Florence.</i> Not your usual Valentine's Day fic. (Pre-series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Florence With Love

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still alive! /o\ cleaning up my fic folder just now, i stumbled across this, more than two (three?) years after writing it. i think it may have been for a challenge of some kind, but i don't recall. i don't even recall writing it at all. ah, they say memory's the first thing to go as you get older, right?

There was that time, many years before he recruited her to Do Good, that they were stuck in a hotel room in Florence. It was February the 13th, and Nate should've had this thing wrapped up and been home a week ago. But then Sophie had shown up right in the middle of his investigation, looking every bit the innocent French lady she was portraying. From that moment on, things had gone south. And now they were stuck, hiding in the small walk-in closet of her hotel room while the goons one of her marks had sent after her were ransacking the place, looking for the rolled up painting she was slowly flattening against her dress.

"I wish you'd never shown up here!" she hissed into his ear.

" _You_ wish?! If _you_ hadn't gone out and stolen that painting, we wouldn't be in this situation now!"

"Oh, boo hoo, you're only annoyed because you have no jurisdiction here and can't take it from me."

"Well next time, just keep to yourself and don't approach me in the middle of one of your cons."

Sophie gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes and busied herself with the painting.

"I had _plans_ ," she heard him mumble, realising only then that he would most likely not get to his wife in time for Valentine's Day. The thought saddened her for reasons she didn't care to analyse.

"Well, now your plans have changed. You're my good luck charm, and you're going to get us out of here."

With that, she unzipped his trousers, and then pushed him out of the closet, right into the path of the two guys outside. He was stumbling through one apology into the next while she quickly donned one of the wigs she'd stored just for an occasion like this. And then she was out, too, looking for all intents and purposes ravished. An Eastern European accent was easily played, and once the goons had checked the closet for the paiting—in vain, naturally—, she and Nate were left alone.

He ran a hand over his face and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. She disappeared back into the closet for a few seconds, and came out with a small black bag, not nearly big enough for the painting.

"What's that now?"

Nate was tired, so tired, and it was easy for him to tell Sophie had something else up her sleeve. He just didn't think he was up for that. To his surprise, she pulled a pearl necklace out of a side pocket and handed it to him.

"Go. If you leave now, you should still get the last Air France flight out. You'll be home before Valentine's Day even really starts."

For a moment, Nate wasn't sure what to say or do, so Sophie just pushed him out the door, again.

"Go!"

And he did, only to double back halfway down the corridor, hug her, and then leave for good.

A few days later, Sophie received a postcard from Paris, a picture of two lovers kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, and a hastily scribbled 'thank you' on the back, dotted with something that looked suspiciously like a heart. The card was dated February 14th, and even when she sold the painting, she held on to the postcard for good luck.


End file.
